Deadly Alive
by Hallowbreath
Summary: Original characters. I do not own True Blood. No copy write infringement intended Autumn comes to the realization shortly after vampires become exposed that she is in a relationship with one. How will she cope when she realizes the title of her Vampire boyfriend who claims to be king? I need help with what direction this is going in so all input is more than welcome!
1. Chapter 1

A handful of my hair, and the slightest of pulls, made my neck fall back; another hand possessively grabbing me by my neck with no pressure, but a stiff force that kept me still. Taking in a deep breath, inhaling the humid sticky air, I felt captured. His skin was ice cold, possessive with those incredibly large hands. My eyes only saw past the deep sky, a lack of stars as his grip tightened on me.

The grip on my hair tightened, then loosened, as he moved his large stature down to my ear, "You will not leave," he growled, the ice in his nonchalant voice had thawed with a passionate magma. He was angry.

I was unable to say anything, though I placed my hand on the one around my neck. Then another, as I backed fully into his body, his hands slipped, down my throat, gently over my breast, to the place between my pelvic bone, "this will never work." The words escape my lips thoughtfully, as I grab his wrist, and pull him away. Though he could easily kill me, he lets me separate them, so I turn, to face him.

Ridiculously handsome, his face, brooding with a taunting manly-man look every woman swooned over. He was used to this; knowing how his scarp angled bone structure combined with the softness of his proud nose and those perfect kissable lips were. Irresistible didn't cut when you looked into those icy eyes that at first, second, and third glimpse were soulless.

He didn't breath. His heart didn't pump. Though he was alive, and as clear as day, walking, talking, gallivanting about for one thousand years eating people who would never be missed.

Vampires were real. They were home and business owners, they were in the media pushing the ideals of "main streaming" living amongst humans. The moral compass had combust, it's springs lost in a vortex of possibilities, leaving me feeling betrayed more so than anything in the world.

Maybe because it's because I'm young; a fresh eighteen year old in her sophomore year of a University with a craving for a hopeless romance to strangle myself in—just like any other teen, I thought my life was pretty fucked. These vampires weren't going to sparkle in the sun; they would eat you in vein, your remains hidden for the insects to slowly eat you as your body lay lifeless, decomposing. I shared lips with a man who could quite have possibly slept with over thousands of women; his lips contaminated by millions more. By the way he looks, his sex life must have been ridiculously lavished with women spreading their legs before he could even think about asking.

Before, he made me nervous—but now—how could I have shared something so special with a man who had probably taken more virgins thank I could probably ever imagine.

Not only was I betrayed, but shocked to know he was a King; the highest of the social food chain amongst vampires. His job was to keep peace amongst his own kind. It figured, his clothes were all designer though his style was simple.

"Please—stay?"

"Why?" my voice, firm, inquiring. "Why haven't you killed me? We've been doing—well…_this_…for almost a year."

"You will stay, and you will give yourself to me—you will be mine," he says, those hands on my shoulders.

"Give myself to you?" It almost comes out as if I'm amused. "I am nobodies play toy. You will not bite me!"

"Who said anything about biting?" he almost growled. "I'm over a thousand years old—I find interest in no one. You tell me you love me the other day, and you find out then suddenly such feelings—feelings that I also expressed to you and MEANT—" his voice was flustered, "You were sincere! I was—for once in my life sincere! If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be here right now!"

He's heated, his emotionless eyes are filled with rage fueled by heart break. Quickly, his face goes back to that mysterious ice, his emotionless face, a barrier from the world, as his forehead touches mine, "If you value your life, you will be mine."

"What'll happen if I refuse?" I swallow.

"I would hope you the best and suggest you be in your house, safe at sunrise every day for the rest of your life."

"I know what it's like to be homeless—alone in the dark. I've run away from so many foster families it's ridiculous. Vampires existed then. I wasn't killed, so what makes you think I'll suddenly be killed now?"

"Because I will be assure that every man you are with, is dead—when I find my heart to grow cold and jealous enough, I will take you for myself because if I can't have you; nobody will have you."

For a millisecond, my heart stopped, sending fear charging like lightning through my veins, "If you loved me, you would set me free," I swallow.

He smirks, "How cute," he sighs, rubbing a thumb against my cheek. "Though it may be true I have no intentions in wasting my time. You're stubborn and would find excuse after excuse never to return. Not only have I emotionally dedicated myself to you, but I've studied you.

"Soon you won't even realize—you're not captured; just a little restrained. You told me you loved me."

"I did—I mean," I hesitate, "I do."

"Then be with me. It's so easy to be with me."

"I want children—you can't give me those."

"Please—do not shove what I would wish to give you in your face. If I could, I would give you children. Don't be cruel."

The desperation in his voice, made her heart sink.

"Why me?" I sigh. "Why couldn't have fallen for some retard girl like Bella?"

"Bella?" he asks, confused.

My temperature boils, though I am not angry, but frustrated; my heart breaking, imploding as he'd given me true happiness. Though he'd tricked me for almost a year, and I was hurt, my emotion pull was in favor of staying.

"You fit me so well. I've _met_ a lot of people in my life time. I'm not saying you're nothing like them. I haven't taken the time to meet them—but when I saw you, I knew you would make me happy. I had lived so many years in contempt. I own a successful bar, and hotel chain; I have money, I've had attention; but I haven't truly loved someone since I was alive.

"It's ridiculous. I died before I could even marry her—I remember her, and even though my human self-loved her, she was nothing compared to you. You're smart, you have self-worth and can't be traded for cattle. You could easily be a dime a dozen, but I could give a shit about that. Fuck—" he stops himself frustrated. "I keep my emotions inside. I've been doing it forever, and you evoke everything. You push every last one of my god damned buttons! Please! Just love me like I love you and quit the self-righteous bull shit."

My brows furrow, "Self-righteous," I sigh. "Sorry," I a grin comes to my face as I can't believe him, "but if you felt you were living a lie then excuse the fuck out of me."

His hand leaves my face as he takes in an unnecessary breath of air, "I watched Cats with you—you would think someone with as much killing skill you would have been the first glance I had on you. Why would I have to elaborately scheme to earn your trust when I could just glamor you. I'm sorry I had to lie, but if I told you I was a vampire you would leave me which would result in me having to show you. CATS the musical, is terrible theatre, but I watched it because you love it so much. I haven't had sex in almost a year—I'm the fucking king. I could get pussy in three seconds."

"You're not making that great of a case for yourself, throwing all of that in my face—and CATS is not terrible theatre!" My argument may be void, though a man who hadn't expressed his emotions in years and whop also happens to be just as sexually frustrated doesn't have too straight of a head, regardless of whether or not he's dead.

"If only you could have been the 100 year old vampire virgin…."

"What?!" he laughs, "Add another zero—"

"You're a thousand years old?" I screamed almost horrified.

"Closer to two," he shrugs. "And I'm proud of it."

Sighing, I don't feel as if I have any more air to breath, my lungs will have collapsed or filled with my own blood so I would drown in myself. Decomposed mummies from ancient museums in middle school pop into my head. "Oh Dear god," I feel myself getting sick only because I can forget about how many people he's killed, and now have to multiple his sexual partners by who knows how many. "Please just lie to me," I beg. "Tell me your 120."

"I am 1,989 years old. Age is something you wear with pride."

That number is not reassuring.

"I live in the body of a 22 year old—our physical ages aren't too far apart."

Just looking at his face, filled with concern though his ice like barrier hides all of his other worries I can't help but think about this last year. All of the fun I've had with him though he was sadistic and dark; his personality was almost close to nothing, and yet I'd felt so much warmth and love from someone everyone told me was the most cruel.

He was also right. I wasn't too hard of a challenge for him to just come up and kill. Killing me for someone like him must be equivalent to stomping on a spider. Maybe Stephanie wasn't wrong about their sheer strength.

"I just want to be happy with you forever." The angry turn slowly turned into a faithless drop.

"I won't live forever—"

"I would change you."

"And if I didn't want to change?"

"Then I would simply love you until you died."

His simplicity wasn't very charming. Then again, he wasn't Edward, he wasn't some zealous, over sensitive romantic willing to die for a girl with nothing especially particular about her besides the fact he can't read her mind. Oliver couldn't read minds!

"Then?" I ask curiously.

"I would imagine an extraordinary amount of hurt—but I don't know what would happen after that. I'm emotionally attached. I want you to be mine. I want to claim you."

"Oliver, if that's even your real name—I'm not property."

"It's so other vampires don't hurt you. You belong to me; they would sense our bond then simply leave you alone—and Oliver isn't my real name," he chimes in quickly, "My real name is Ӧlvir Holgata. The name doesn't really roll off the tongue."

My lips purse, my arms cross as I stare down the giant. "What's the process?"

"It's a sensual exchange of blood—before you knock it, please understand I need to be able to feel you whenever wherever. I don't even have to bite you. You can prick your finger on my tooth for all I care."

"I don't wanna drink you blood."

"Just a dab, and we will be one."

"So what makes it so…_sensual_?"

"The exchange—the effects of my blood will engulf you in waves of ecstasy as you experience intimacy on a level much higher than words could ever express. Or so I've heard…."

"Fine, I'll just assume because we're not taking large amounts that the experience will be lesser."

Oliver raises a beautiful eyebrow, shaking his head, whatever you want to believe my love, now come with me inside."

Side by side, he glides next to me, not taking my hand but watching with intent, as I've relaxed. I haven't gone too far, not really even passed the gates, onto the streets. His house is humbling; Large, with mostly windows as it's surrounded by a beautiful straight lined landscaping. The ancient vampire is very much so into modernism and being as simple as possible.

We walk into the mansion where his three progenies sit, with their volunteering prey, as he takes me up the seemingly floating stairs, up to his bedroom. He didn't hesitate at the door; opening into a room that had no windows, ceiled off from the world. He didn't sleep here; he did other things he couldn't do wherever he went for the day.

I still didn't know where that was in all honesty. He takes me in his arms, nudging the door with his foot, allowing the door to shut at a gentle force though the walls trembled. "So, I think I should go first—"

"I think you should slow down," I sternly say, as I step on a short sturdy black chest as all the furniture in the room was very close to the ground. Looking into those icey blue eyes, I couldn't believe I was about to see the other side of him. "Alright, show me your teeth, he bared his mouth falsely. "You know what I mean," I scowl.

Opening his mouth slightly wider, I watch fangs shoot out, making a popping sound. My heart seemed to panic shooting down to my stomach; a thick lump surfaced into my throat. This breath, this courage took me back to an eighth science class. His tooth would be the sterilized needle I would examine under a stethoscope…except, the petri would be his tongue and I wouldn't be seeing anything. My finger, pressed against the razor sharp white tooth as a small bead formed around the puncture, placing it on his tongue.

Would this be like that scene in Interview with a Vampire where the baby ends up consuming the woman who was tricked into thinking she'd only wanted to kiss her wound? My mind thought too quickly, as I was quickly awakened by how his lips shut around my finger; his tongue caressing it as it slid through his mouth.

There was something in his eyes, when my finger slipped from his lips; a curious furrowed brow. Ignoring said curiosity, he quickly, pricked his finger, as I stuck my tongue out, placing his finger tip on my tongue , bringing it back into my mouth, as the effects of said blood began to take course. My vision blurred for a moment, as the simple room, grew into something else; where the sun was warm on my skin. Where the grass through the carpet slowly enveloping around my, the four walls falling down into a meadow, "What is this place?" I ask, looking down at my feet, in which I was no longer on furniture.

"I don't know," he sighs in amazement.

When I moved, my limbs felt as light as air; my blood tingled, tickling my bad mood away as the smile grew.

For once, I was so happy I didn't know what to do with myself as I felt, onto the soft grass, under the sun. The grass felt like individual strands of waving silk, as I rolled in it. The sound of the birds, their songs, pulled strings in my stomach that felt like popping magic, that made me laugh.

"What are you doing?" he asks, "may I join in?"

"Of course! It feels amazing!"

As he lay on his back looking into those eyes, I felt as if we were connected; an intense rush came to my hear, as it did to him. We smile almost simultaneously as he scoots over to me, chuckled at the ticklish fibers. "I love you."

"I love you," I smile back.

"Make love to me here," his voice, soft, vulnerable, "let me take you."

"I'm scared," I whisper, "But—I think I can trust you with this." Against my better judgment, that, in his case meant yes. I stayed perfectly still in the ticklish grass, then, with a split decision, took my shirt off; exposing my skin to a faint breeze. Greedily, he took my chest in his hands, pushing them closer together, kneading them as his mouth collided with mine. Those aggressive hands, unlatching my bra snaps as quickly as he could, immediately headed towards the button of my pants, as he leaned me back down onto the plush green.

Watching him take his clothes off at an abnormal speed was somewhat similar to watching a light show; his movement was beautiful, fast and dazzling. He was completely naked before me ripped off my panties, his fangs had already been out.

"Don't you dare bite me," I hiss.

"Don't worry lover," he coos, kissing the nape of my neck, trailing his way up, to my jawline accompany rose petal kisses. "I will not intentionally hurt you."

He played with me, taking a nipple into his mouth, while playing with the other though it only got them hard did only a little for me. Kissing the man with fangs, out in the open like this, was an adrenalin rush amongst all of the other soft senses around me that soon, made me relax so that he could properly slide in.

Demanding lips, a demanding tongue, with expert fingers only played, tickling, caressing a sweet bud. Pressing against it and an alarmingly fast pace, the building of pressure shot into my leg muscles with a warm comfortable burning that caused me to involuntarily move to get more pleasure. Of course, I bit my tongue as to not make a noise, though I whimpered when I could not hold my composure and the build up was too much to keep. My muscles trembled, shaking, as the feeling of having to pee released itself. Thank god I didn't actually pee; but sighed when I pooled.

His kissing stopped when he looked at me smugly, then with a mischievous grimace, her kisses me softly, moving his body, distracting me, "this might hurt."

I giggle as his mouth is smiling as well, "I don't know why you find that's funny."

His mouth grins wider, ice cold skin hovering over me, as his head drops to my neck, I feel him, placing himself at the entrance, guiding himself in with his hand, slowly pushing himself into me. First the tip, made me groan, as I hadn't been stretched though it went in more easily in my state.

"Jesus," he groans, pushing himself slowly into me, as for me to adjust, although I've shut my eyes tightly; my teeth grind together behind my closed lips, waiting. Inching slowly further, he allows himself as his pace which turned into a rip instead of the initial burn. I wanted to say ow, though I put my arm over my eyes as I could not contain a relaxed look. Breathing worked, as he began the motions, I felt the blood.

He was large; not only long but his girth felt as if it were too much as he tries fitting all of himself in me. Right now, I'm sure he was facing the facts, I was a little too tight to accommodate him.

"Look at me," he called softly, a tear had shed from my eye, but only from the tear.

Removing my heavy arm, I looked at him; no longer in the meadow, but in his room; the four walls had rose, blocking us from the soft paradise. There he was, smiling, pushing himself into me, as I tried not to make a face.

"It will feel amazing in a short time," he reassures me, moving faster, faster, to his ridiculous speed, in which then I'd felt a tiny but of pleasure before he made a noise from within his core that was almost too demonic.

Somehow, from our high, we were on the bed as that groan continued, as he bit into the pillow next to my neck, as those hard working muscles loosened and he slid from me.

"See? That wasn't so bad, my love, was it?"

"Why'd you bit the pillow?" I ask, confused. Was this some sick reference?

"Biting is sexual, I respect the fact you don't want me to bite you. You cum—you bite," he easily shrugs, "they go together. It's more instinctual for me—" he sighs, smirking, then kissing my forehead, "Speaking of biting, the night is young and I need to feed before I get any ideas."

"So I'm guessing you're not the kind of guy that drinks True Blood."

"Only on social occasions—like when I'm at my club, or one of my hotels. Otherwise, I won't touch the stuff. It's too bland." He gets up, "Get dressed." The closet opens, and he's already half way putting some clothes I'd left over at his house. Raising my arms, I give him a sour look as I hate being rushed.

I get up, following him out of the room, butt naked, though the short hallway and down the stairs.

Glass house, Oliver had no shame, and certainly nothing to hide as his body was flawless. The way he walked, because of his height was almost like a graceful stride. "Having the house all to ourselves is quite lovely isn't it?" he asks, as I follow him into the kitchen.

"Uh, yeah," I shrug, "I—uh, was kind of wondering if I could go upstairs and shower?"

"Not yet," he says, opening his top of the line stainless steel fridge. "God Damnit," he sighs, back to his stale, emotionless voice. "You would think they'd save some for me—Eva!" he screams.

"Eva?"

The quick sound of clacking high heels runs from whatever direction. Out comes a woman in a short lingerie French maid costume.

"You're fucking joking," I spit. "Unbelievable."

Hispanic, long brown hair, that's been especially curled makes her look like a beautiful porn star. Obviously whatever she was doing here was making her exceptional amounts of money as she'd had the greatest rack I'd ever seen. She was drop dead gorgeous, making me feel like I was just like anyone he could have picked off the street.

"Are you jealous?" he asks, confused.

"Well duh!" I almost laugh, "Look at her! She's beautiful!"

A reaction none of them had probably anticipated from me, as they both stared in horror. His fangs pop out, as he eyes avert to his sex; which is now resurrected itself.

"I think it's time for me to really go," I turn only to see him, in front of me, blocking me way.

"No, you're not leaving me again—I only need her to feed, I swear."

"Maybe you should give in to Drinking True Blood instead of collecting women who look like her! It comes off the wrong way!" I look up, standing my ground, when he smiles again, using his muscled arms to press me against the kitchen wall.

"Leave Eva, I am no longer in need of your services."

"Okay," she faintly says, probably more than happy to leave such an awkward situation. I watch her black designer heels walk out, then, I hear a door shut.

"Fine. Let's say I start drinking True Blood when you're around and start feeding off less attractive women…although, you're beauty compared to hers is not even comparable. Let's make a deal."

My lungs fill with air, as I am in no mood to compromise, "Fine, yes, lets," I say, covering his mouth, "Start drinking True Blood—nothing but True Blood and I'll let you continue having sex with me. That sounds like a great idea doesn't it?"

His face becomes uninterested and stale, "That would be like me asking you do nothing but drink water—"

"Water can't nourish you—True Blood can," I correct him.

"Well I was thinking something more along the lines of letting me get another taste of you, fucking you again until I go to ground. Tomorrow, after your online classes you will finish here, I will drink something you don't feel threatened by, with sips of True Blood here and there—then fuck you some more."

"That hardly seems like compromise."

"Would you simply ask any carnivorous animal in the wild to simply become some sort of vegetarian?" he demands in a growl, "I am a predator. Yes, some vampires mainstream, but even they can't fully quit. It's what keeps us alive. The taste is something you can't put in a bottle. It's not real."

I feel the blood within me turn cold, as the intensity in every aspect is too much, as I press myself more against the wall. "Then how do expect us to work?"

"No," his voice immediately softens, along with his eyes and posture. "Don't be afraid."

"Then stop being such a dick," my breathing quickens. I laugh, thinking how ridiculous I look, how I was arguing with a naked man. "You have no idea how frightening this is for me," I try to calm myself, "You practically eat people alive—you aren't supposed to exist, and yet here we are. It's a lot to find out in just one day, you know?

"I'm an emotional mess. You just had sex with me. I've never had sex in my life before. Emotionally, I'm kind of fucked up, from the heart break, the surprise, the fighting—maybe I just need to take a step back. You're a _predator_, I get it…kinda….."

Why was it he couldn't just feed from animals like in the books? Life wasn't supposed to be like this! Twilight was some fucked up fantasy I could never have. Even their relationship was, but at least that fictional character and his family could dedicate themselves to becoming a full-fledged vegetarian.

"I think I can accept your offer—do me a favor though?"

"Anything," he nods.

"Watch Twilight with me?"

His eyebrow raises, "What's that?"

"Just some ridiculous movie—it's kind of a big deal."

He takes me into the living room, the mounted TV is on, ready for him to choose the movie, which is on a popular on the renting list.

I'm calm when the movie starts, he lays me on the couch, cuddling me from behind, nudging his face loving against mine, his hands lovingly, wrap around me.

As the movie goes on, he laughs at how dumb he thinks the movie is and what a weak character Edward is; devising a way to captivate my attention, kissing me, tickling me, flirting, bringing me back into the warm loving feeling before he slowly enters me again, slowly watching as I focus on the movie and his sweet kisses.

He lasts almost the whole movie before letting out his seed, licking my neck, sinking his teeth into my neck, as I gasp. He continues to hold me, as he sucks, the noises he makes, while the wet sound of the sucking from my neck makes me weaker.

He finishes quickly, slicing his entire pointer finger, rubbing it over the wound on my neck. It itches for a brief moment, and the anticipated pain never happens.

"So, was there a particular lesson I should have picked up in this ridiculous movie you made me watch?" he kisses me.

Aside from the fact, you didn't even watch it, "I just wanted to know what you thought of it."

"Well first," he sighs, "It's completely unrealistic. This character Edward has a sick obsession with someone I am assumed to over obsessed with a human who has an irresistible smell. There's nothing to her character other than her nervous stuttering.

"It's silly although I do understand why silly humans would make this a number one recommended movie for renting. Having someone love you forever, without ever having to be alone with such dedication is appealing. It's just silly that when they he it seems he has no idea what he's doing."

"He's a virgin."

The vampire bursts out in thunderous laughter, "How old is he allegedly?"

"Like 100?"

"No. Vampires use seduction to kill half their prey in the beginning. Especially because he's so young—this movie…I feel bad for whatever teenage girl thinks they'll in a relationship like that."

My eyebrow raises, "Don't act like you didn't put on some romantic façade when you first met? I kind of thought we had that…."

"I was romantic because I found you to be the most beautiful and interesting," he says curtly, "I didn't ignore you for days, I came right up to you and introduced myself like a true gentleman would. I took you on dates to see if we could be compatible, and we were. Now say there was a vampire who wanted you—to drain you. I'm the King of this State. I have the authority to have that said vampire dead. If my wishes aren't met, I'm old enough to kill that vampire just as easily.

"It's not that hard my love. I would do anything for you and beyond. This woman—she made these vampires up in her mind with her imagination. Why would anybody expect something so…unreal? Not to mention, I feel that our relationship, though right now it's slightly on the rocky side, is so much more than theirs could ever be regardless of the shit they get themselves into."

Seeing his point, I run my finders through his blond hair as he rests on my chest. "I read all for books in a week," I sigh, "In the end they have a baby—"

"Though that is impossible, the notion of having children isn't so bad. I may be some asshole to everyone, but if I could have one thing, it would probably be a child of my own… a relationship is second best," he looks at me, "Forever doesn't always last, but, I could die knowing I had you."


	2. Chapter 2

His growl of approval echoed through his core, escape from that broad exposed, pale chest. I hadn't realized what the duties of a King were though I thought I had when he'd briefly explained it not to long ago. Seemingly, he's had some sort of a tenth month vacation meeting me; these last two months were brutal.

Vampires came in and out of _our_ home, though I do not claim the house in any way though had been more than insisted to move in quit my job and switch to all online courses so that I would never leave. Of course, I'm too hard headed for his regulations. I attend the university, during the day, just before sun set so that I can spend the rest of the evening with him. Though the gesture was supposed to be romantic, his home has been bombarded with his own kind.

I don't like vampires; they're too comfortable with everything. The topic of crude sex, amongst several fantasies are talked about as if they were having small chat about the weather. Maybe age slowly eats away at the filter you're built in with, but, the way they scope you down is just too bone chilling.

An iced over gaze, generally the same regardless of their stature in the community of night walkers, slowly, they trail down stopping to fantasize in whichever what they could have with you, then probably finish it off with making you swim in whatever is left of your pooling blood.

They're rude; they will not acknowledge you and speak of you as if you weren't there as if you were lesser of a being. The way Oliver stares at me almost in the same intent, living in his past in thoughts; wishing I could be one of his so we wouldn't stop having to pretend I was some high class blood whore. I had better things to do than wait around all night. When the meetings were over, the paper work was signed, all of his financial talk was over with.

The end of the school year was almost over, all of my major projects were finished, if not turned in, and I was too down right tired for these games. My time was valuable though none of the living dead though I was worth space in his home.

Getting the hint, when they stormed through the home to discuss matters going on in the states; where the area sheriffs meat with the King I simply shut the door behind myself in the room. When they left, giving him maybe two or three hours alone, it seemed he was just too busy. I thought it would possibly subside, but it's been two months since we've spent time alone with each other.

The way he's been simply dismissing me, being unappreciative of the things I do, was really eating at my nerves. Then, claiming to have the nerve to try and have sex with me almost every night then?

Oliver was on another dry spell.

Just like any other night, he walks in after his vampire business is finished in just his boxer shorts. Striding across my room, the way he does everywhere, with those eyes set lustfully toward my backside. I was on my stomach, casually reading from the E-book like device Oliver had so quickly grown out of.

Romance novels about werewolves; a taste of a more animalistic side every girl secretly wanted. Of course I wasn't quite sure if they actually existed.

"Autumn, I think it's all to necessary to…_reacquaint_ ourselves."

Rolling my eyes, I closed my legs, twisting them—not that it would help—continuing to read. The boys in the Indian tribes about to strip naked in front of the main character and I wanted a full description.

"What are you reading?" he demands, that icy tone settling back in. "I demand you give me what I want."

"Though I'm a guest at your house, you cannot tell me when you need me to use my body; that understood?" I snap, turning around almost ready to strike. "Besides, you've been ignoring me for the last two months—the shops about to close up for the week….I can feel it." I wasn't lying. "I want a foot rub and an apology."

"An apology for what?" he demanded, "You knew what you were getting into."

"No! No it didn't! I was gunna leave remember? Then you buttered me up for a couple days and they all just started taking over. I had no idea what the true definition of being a _King_ is! So stop yourself right there.

"Look," I sigh, more apologetically. "Those aren't hormones because I was forced into this. You tore up the lease paper work and had everything in my apartment into your house without me even knowing. I'm gracious you're letting me live here, I truly am; but you're not dealing with just some girl. You've had plenty of them, and I'm going to be maybe one in a few who demand respect from you."

"I killed them first."

"THEN KILL ME!" I scream, lashing out, "Fuck! You're tactics in keeping this supposed relationship we have are shit—"

"Supposed?" his voice raises, "You know I have dedicated myself fully to you!"

"Fully! I'm sure if someone, of my kind called you a filthy leech I would defend you. Yet, here I am, being looked frowned upon because nobody knows I'm not a Blood Whore. Everyone is under the impression I am a claimed blood whore. Does that make any sense to you? It doesn't to me!

"You have a lot on your plate, I get it. How the fuck do you expect me to clear my entire life for you when you don't have an ounce of fucking time left for me. Now surely you had people working under you that ten whole months when I hadn't seen any other vampires other than your progenies."

My blood began to boil. He being the King was making me go insane. I was completely blind to the rest of the world, alienating myself. Sure, I hated everyone, but I could enjoy the birds while studying in the park with a quiet study group. It was almost like getting myself into another abusive relationship.

I couldn't think about that right now. All of the aristocratic vampire business was making me sick and tired of being sick and tired.

"It's obvious you need some tension released."

"Then give me a message," I shrug, "You are most definitely not getting any tonight."

"You're being unreasonable."

"Oh?" I ask, turning around, "Well, if I could put in a situation close to mine—though you probably wouldn't feel inferior anyways because…oh yeah, I'm just so inferior." I sighed dryly, "You know what?" I ask, laughing, "I shouldn't be letting this get in my way."

He knew he'd slipped, an overheard conversation, made his high shoulders fall, "I'm truly sorry I have offended you."

Huffing, I turn onto my back, easing into an upright position.

"My sincerest apologies," he nods, gracefully going to his knees.

"Apology accepted," I nod, "But, still—I'm in no mood for sex."

"For someone so young, you're acting as if you're old and married," his still icy teasing voice sighs, as he lays on the bed with me. "Enjoy your living youth."

"Now rub my feet," as I take the E-book, continuing my read.

"Must be some novel…." He sighs, taking my foot in his cold pale hand, rubbing it tenderly, deeply. My muscles relax.

I say nothing about the book, I turn the device off, setting it off to the side; propping myself against the pillow.

"Such a pity," he sighs, "the anatomy of a woman…every part of you is soft…enticing, from you curves, your breasts; you have no flaws. Yet every month you, have to, unintentionally, bleed for days. I can't even say that's a flaw…if you were one of me, you would never bleed again."

"It's a pain in the ass, but, as I told you—again and again, I'm going to need something a little more permanent that an eternal promise. How will I even see you when you have to personally travel, with all of the other vampire polo tics I still don't know about.

"You told me you were king, to an extent I only knew what you explained to me which was very brief. You're secretive; I know there's a lot more I'll be exposed to in you world and I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"Then marry me—the ideals of marriage are silly, yes—but there is a bond we'll make; right after I make you; which is a bond that is already stronger than any marriage…." He trails off, "If you want, we can do that once I've made you."

My lips purse to the side, reluctantly, as I watching, watching me, switching feet, messaging me.

"I'll think about it…"


	3. Chapter 3

My cycles were generally short; the King, who had been sexless for quite some time, unfortunately sensed it.

There was no tricking someone that sexually frustrated as before this little vacation, he'd gone ten months without using his favorite appendage in the way that he wanted. Tonight Oliver had not been present though he had written a note for me on the door saying he fully intended on fucking me until the sun rose. Romantic, right?

The vampire traffic in this house had been amazing, non-stop, though today you couldn't hear the classical records being played; nor their speaking.

The E-book had mysteriously gone missing, I'd decided to make my way to his private library where I could read to pass the time. No sounds had been made, I'd simply thought they'd left for the night to catch up and make a stop to present themselves briefly at their fine establishments. That was okay, I was getting used to spending time with myself.

Up at the third floor was his library; this house was built to great; a hidden third floor; a hidden basement….

Well, despite the open feel of the mansion, everything was quite medieval. Typical Oliver; finding ways to do weird shit though I didn't want to know what horrible things he did in said rooms.

The grand Library door, was the only door in a very short single hallway; disguised as a closet. I hoped I would find something up here to read.

Opening the door, my eyes didn't go to bookshelf walls covered in book; but a group of vampires in black formal suites. Oliver, ripping, so quickly a heart out of a man who'd hadn't had any time to scream but gargle.

"Oh what the fuck," escaped my lips faintly, as I watched the king drink from the artery. I couldn't vomit; I couldn't faint, but my body froze in horror.

They looked at me, as the woman vampire, who was completely naked, steaming from the silver chains, screamed.

"Ignore her," Oliver demanded. His hands, his lower mouth here covered in crimson. Slamming the door immediately, I didn't bother to ask anything.

Why did they have to take her clothes off.

That didn't matter. I just watched Oliver rip the heart out of someone's chest! Just turning around, hearing faint screams; I ran down the stairs, into my room, locking the door, with every single piece of furniture, and window; using the force of fear to move the incredibly heavy objects, then straight into my closet.

What the fuck.

My mind went on and on trying to get Oliver, drenched in blood from my head. That still beating heart in his hand—he would feed on that dead body. Oh fuck!

Sitting in the corner of the deepest part of the closet, tucking my body in tight I tried to control my breathing; overwhelmed, fighting off the urge to cry. Now, I was sick; suck to my stomach; the blood coming from the poor man's mouth as he shuttered after collapsing to the floor. I was just glad I hadn't made eye contact though I couldn't say much for the woman.

Still, I couldn't dwell on what I'd just seemed though I was already consumed.

Not knowing how much time had gone by; I heard him knocking on my door, "Open the door, Autumn!" he wasn't here to play games. The loud crash of expensive furniture made my jump, as I'd assumed by the shaking of the walls, the whole door had been thrown out if it's hinges. "Autumn," he growls, "Get out of the closet right now."

I have no time to move when the lights turn on and that door too had been torn from its hinges. I shut my eyes tight, hiding my face in my legs, as I feel his presence move the long dresses, and look down on me.

"What the FUCK where you thinking?" he demands.

Though I was scared, I wasn't going to tolerate that abuse. Tears spilled down my face, "What I was thinking was you were home!" I yelled back, my emotions becoming too strong. More tears dropped though I wasn't in hysterics. "Since the E-book went missing I had to find another way to entertain myself. You told me I was free to use the library whenever I wanted. I took the offer not thinking you'd have some sick killing ritual!"

"Killing ritual?" he asks, bending down, "I was doing my job as the KING, punishing the vampire and her play toy—they had done unthinkable things."

"That was some fucked up shit—don't you think if you didn't want anybody going up there you'd put up a sign or something? That's what you get for trying to soundproof shit too! Stop thinking I know everything!"

His face still had blood on it, just like his hands.

"Why was she naked?" I ask, suddenly , drying the tears from my eyes. "What happened to the vampire?"

"Her toy was sentenced to death; she was chained, and is sentenced to he fangs being removed, and three years starvation—as to why she was naked…

"Well, she'd sort of just arrived that way. The man who runs the authority is somewhat of a sadist. His eyes glower at me, his fangs still out, the disappear with that popping noised. "I'm so full," he sighs, "though that little vampire justice emergency is over… I think I wrote you a note—"

"Oh yeah, I'm just so turned on. Look at your face! It's covered in blood. Don't touch me—go clean up. Just looking at you in this state makes me sick." I stand my ground, "Move."

"Give me what I want," his fangs pop out again. Through his plain V-neck, I look at his stomach, though normally it's flat, rock hard I couldn't help but notice the bloat. It's cute.

Rubbing his tummy under his shirt, I look into those eyes, "Didn't I already tell you that you have no say in when I have sec with you. It's my body," my tone is calm, as he's eyes soften. "Does your belly hurt?" I ask, trying not to press to hard against it.

"Tummy?" he detests the word. "No my **stomach**__does not hurt."

"You sure?" I ask, lifting his shirt so I could see, his body made no noise but the protrusion looked quite painful. It was hard, as I rubbed it with my palm.

"I'm fine," he shoves his shirt down, snarls, and lets me leave.

Thinking nothing of, I was suddenly struck violently with the chills as I passed him.

"Are you?"

"Maybe," my voice breaks, counting to three silently in my head. "I don't know—Yeah, I think I'll be alright." Another lie, slipped through my mouth as I say on my bed, falling into it as the springs of the pillow top gently bounced me. "If I were weak, I would have probably thrown up. My stomach isn't even the slightest moved. I'm just afraid of you—losing you in these politics. You change, then all of this stuff you had probably been doing when we were together…feeding, ripping out people's hearts."

"Autumn, I can assure you that is my job. He needed to die, and that's the quickest way."

"Huh."

Cold skin ran across my leg, "This isn't what I wanted for us. I thought that maybe you would just be oblivious."

I looked into those ice blue eyes, glazed over with worry though his face, as always never moved. I didn't know if I could handle all of this.


	4. Chapter 4

Laying in darkness, surprisingly, I've slept like a baby, not being haunted by the disturbing memories of the murder. My mind didn't linger on how they'd extracted the vampires fangs nor, where'd they'd buried her. Maybe it was just because my conscious has been so mentally exhausted lately—maybe it died…

Just as the sun had set from yet another exhausting day, the traffic goes through. The men in the suits are back, as I sit on the couch, filing my nails next to Annika, a German prostitute from the late 1800's. She liked maintaining her hair in that messy yet kept high bun on her head. He lips were thin, and she had a good amount of meat on her body because she had the tastes of men with high prestigious incomes. The look in her mischievous face, carved in the essence of an angel; her face was one of a little girl's though she had died at 22.

"You know, I liked the house better when these people weren't here," she sighs with sour distaste, crossing her Germanic legs. Brown eyes gaze into mine, as her perfectly manicured eyebrow raises, Her makeup done to the T, "Oliver tells me to look my best and for what? I'm not a people pleaser."

Obviously...

I roll my eyes, then smile; Annika was mean. Not mean in the way she'd been a ruthless heart ripper, but, mean in the ways of gossip and belittling people.

She barley talks to me, which is why I like her so much. I think she has the idea of keeping her mouth shut when she hasn't anything nice to say.

"These fucking—" Negah stops himself, clenching his fists, wrapped in his light yet beautiful Persian skin. Yeah, he's dead, but his color still peaks through the icy deadness. With his hair perfectly quaffed back, his fists let loose as he looks at me with those wide golden-green eyes. His mouth goes to the side, composing himself further, plopping down onto the couch. "What the fuck are they possibly complaining about that they can't personally fix themselves?" he demands. "This house is a house of peace, not chaos."

Negah was beautiful, even when he spoke he reminded me of the finest silk; a model like peasant, was now eternalized in an immortal marble. He may have been a peasant, but peasant in past time quickly was evolved into a something incredibly model like—untouchable but in the best way possible.

"All the same bullshit—trying to find information on some kinda unexplainable being is fuckin' shit up," Annika sighs, "Oliver's going to have to find it—hell, we all are. If we want these sheriffs and these other pathetic assholes out of our house, we're going to have to do it immediately."

Negah sighs, "I can't handle them ruining my shit—No!" he screams across the room, zipping off of the couch, "That Vase is older than you, get your fifthly fucking hands off of it!"

"He'd kill a vampire with no remorse," she chuckles, her eyes darting at him. "It's no wonder I love him so much…."

The entire time I'd been here, Annika hadn't ever showed any other emotion aside from anger. Though this family did not show any physical genetic relation they were all very uninterested in everything. Oliver had taught them well.

"So your together?" I asked, setting down my file, about to apply the base coat for my nails. Everything lined up on the beautiful, yet protected table.

"We've been together," she curtly nods, "I mean, he's fifty years older than me. I had never seen anything so beautiful, human or undead—I'd never seen anyone with colored skin. He was ravishing beyond compare to anyone else I'd seen. I felt I was meant to be made for him." Though her tone was straight forward and never grew warm, you could hear the admiration she had for him.

I thought of it kind of sweet; but, I wouldn't dare say anything. Instead, I let one of very many layers of polish dry.

Just as I'd decorated my nails, and let the colors dry smoothly over my nails, Oliver right hand man set out, of the office, his eyes glowering, as he'd disappeared, reappearing with a woman. He was older than Negah, and said nothing most of the time.

Dragging her by the hair, next to me on the couch, she and he fell. She on his lap, as Annika rolled her eyes in disgust.

With no hesitation, the man with the short styled mop, with the slightest amount of curl looked at me, snarled and bit into the woman. She shrieked, for only a second, until his hands were fiercely grabbing at her chest.

His name is Joseph; it isn't short for anything, nor did he make up his own name and for some reason, he and Oliver share the same damn stick up their asses. Truly in age, he's older, but he's stuck in the body of a seventeen year old.

As he slurps front his victim, those ice blue eyes, glare at me occasionally, catching the corner of my eye as I pretend not to see what's going on. His build is slender, he isn't very tall, compared to Oliver, but is maybe average size around 5'11, maybe. Those full lips wrapped around the girls neck as he stopped, and let her lie in his lap.

"What is it?" Annika asks, asking as if she's reading from a script.

"I'm on edge, okay? Shit. Since when do you pretend to care?" he asks, growling. "Whatever this fucking thing is that's terrorizing our race so much, we need to stop it because I'm already on my last nerve. Don't you feel how fucking stressed Oliver is?"

"Which is why everyone is on the cranky side," Annika nods, "But, he needs more information. These are all the same people, making themselves at home for no reason. They know they're not welcome."

Negah comes out, scowling, growling, beyond angry, "Annika, if you are not in that room, naked in four fucking seconds—"

Annika's eyebrows furrow, as she disappears to wherever they sleep leaving me with the quiet one, kneading the breasts of a woman who's lazily against his body.

"I think I should go," my nail polish was dry.

"You will stay," he says. "Oliver will be out shortly and I will be back in there to take down the complaints."

"Joseph!" Oliver calls.

They switch, as the woman in his lap has now been thrown on the floor.

"You okay?" I ask, horrified at another fear filled squeal.

"Yeah," she giggles, "Daddy sometimes forgets I'm here."

"Daddy?" my eyebrow raises.

"Mhm," she nods, getting to her feet.

Just then, Oliver is at my shoulders, "I think it's time for you to come back tomorrow. Joseph has work to do."

"Okay," he childlike voice disappears as she doesn't take his word lightly.

"Where is Annika?" he asks.

"She's helping Negah with some….anger issues?"

He chuckles quickly, grimacing,"when I turn you, you know you will have to obey me?" he asks, a questionable grimace on his face in a soft voice. "All I'll have to say is, 'Autumn Harlow Holgata, as your make I command you,' and you'll have to obey." His lips softly touch mine, I find myself winded as he spirals from the bottom to the top of him on the couch, at my lips again.

"You would you though?" I ask, with curiosity. "I don't think you would—"

"If you try to make me go any amount of time without sex then, I would resort to it without thought….I highly doubt that. You'll have an amazing sex drive."

I shake my head, "I can't imagine having to live forever—" I kiss him again, pressing myself against him, nestling myself within his neck, biting him. His skin is so smooth and cold, when I press my forehead against him.

"Do you have a fever?" he asks.

"It's a little hot in here."

"It's sixty something degrees; it's cool and you're burning."

"I wasn't burning, I felt fine…just a tad sweaty. I mean, there was no body heat to warm the house, but most people get the occasionally hot flash.

"Here," he takes his shirt off, slipping mine off, wrapping his arms around me.

"I'll fall asleep, I warn, "Today was the last day of class. I'm exhausted."

"Then sleep," he sighs, squeezing me tight.

Never would I think I could close my eyes in someone's caring and concerned arms. To think, I was squatting in high school with a bunch of drop outs. To everyone who wasn't a teacher thought I would never amount to anything for anyone despite I was smart, though I had an emerging problem with Speed. I felt humanly impossible, after homework, I'd allow myself to fly through a pipe.

Harsh words made me believe it too though when I did the drug with friends, I didn't it because it was fun. I watched my friends need it; compared to myself, where I did it by choice, and could go without it and not get sick for weeks.

It was the desperateness in their eyes that made me realize I couldn't do this anymore. I got a job, enrolled in certain programs and got to my feet. I graduated, proving my social worker wrong, proving everyone who had though I was going to be found in a ditch dead from overdosing on whatever they'd come up with….

In high school, I felt like Grizabella, ugly, untouchable, but not in a good way. I was tattered, wore grungy clothes, while everyone looked at me as if I would pass on to them some kind of disease. Being a foster kid wasn't easy—they'd placed me a horrible family, I left, still attending school; my life was a stage. Eyes of disgust and disapproval though I'd hung with the smart kids who didn't give a fuck; they were the thin string because they were all misfits in one way or another.

His hand was cold, but he'd brought warmth to my stomach, when that icy hand touched my arm.

My eyes shut. Having a job allowed me to buy clothes, makeup…things I never had.

Everything was falling into place though I wasn't sure of living with vampires. When he was loving, like this, I was brought back by the man I'd met not too long ago who'd not flashed me a smile, but a content look down at the coffee shop. He never bought coffee, but he came every night before closing for what I assumed to be a quiet place to read, or occasionally listen to the entertainment.

It took weeks before he'd come up to the counter, looking at me with those ice blue eyes, his beautifully slicked hair, looking like a model, hovering over me behind the counter. "Pardon me, but I can't help but admire you. My name is Oliver," a sweet smile, it didn't seem forced but it seemed hard for him. "May I have yours?"

"Autumn," I blushed, looking at him in the candle light. I was off, and joined him, with a hot chocolate.

He was a gentleman, not trying to hold my hand, opening doors and carrying on a conversation with eyes that were not vicious nor curious; he continued on this façade until the new broke out, and vampires had emerged out of the darkness, shaking the world of half of the mysteries it held. He could be himself fully around me, but it terrified me knowing he could kill me, when I'd finally lifted off the oppression from my shoulders.

Now, here we were, as I can fully accept him despite his title, and what he is. I felt as if another layer had been shed as I shut my eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**** The Aswang is a Philippine monster in which I altered to make the story much more interesting. I know very little about it though I have done some research on the mythical creature, so I have altered the creature to be a vampire eater. Also, our beloved Autumn will also being surprising us! **

**Please, please please, review!**

** Xoxo, Hallowbreath.**

"It's been eating vampires!" calls out a demanding voice, just as the sun set. "How the fuck are we supposed to go in to something that is luring vampires when we're fucking vampires?!" Negah cries.

"Aswang is the only relative creature though humans may misinterpret what they write. I found an article saying they were eaters of the dead. Obviously when they're not eating babies or fetuses they're killing vamps when people are tucked in their beds at night."

"The Philippine vampire-witch?" Joseph laughs, "That is the most stupid thing I have ever heard of!"

"Obviously the people can only relate it to what they know—besides, it isn't too strange," Annika barks back, "There was a Maenad somewhere around these parts fuckin' shit up not too long ago. The vamps had to get a shape shifter to kill it." She mumbles things in German, her mouth moving faster than thick words that violently tore Joseph to shreds.

"It's somewhere not too far from here," Oliver interrupts the ranting. "We're going tonight."

"It's a suicide mission," Negah pleas.

"Get Autumn to do it," Annika suggests, half-heartedly, soulless.

"Annika," Negah, howls, "How dare you!"

"What?" she asks, probably shrugging, as I press my ear to the door, "What does she do around here? Nothing."

I walk out of my room, in the hallway, and down to the living room. "So, if I do nothing, take me."

"That won't be necessary, Autumn," Oliver looks up at me, his voice stale.

"But I don't do anything around the house," my eyes stare at Annika, "Though I gladly would if someone were to ask me. Walking, toward them, I take myself to the jacket closet, my eyes avert to the pink hangers which are specifically for me amongst the color coded hangers, wrap myself in a jacket and zip up.

"I've already got my shoes on let's go!"

I was in no mood to be talked back to today.

Walking from the door, I do not wait for them, by the car, my arms fold in the very cool breeze which is strange on the account it's summer. There was a chill, in my spine. I crept down deep in the bone, almost paralyzing me for a moment. It was then, a bolt of light from the sky struck down. Even I, a mere human, could not feel the pressures in the air changed when a storm came along, but I knew this wasn't natural.

"Apologize to Autumn," Negah demanded from inside.

"No!" Annika refused, yelling German profanities, quickly.

No thunder accompanied, but I watched yet another thin bolt strike in the exact same place, with frightening force. Lightning didn't strike in the same place twice.

My body felt, for once, so strange, but so in tuned with the earth to know whatever force was out there was not going to wait around to be found. It would find us.

Yet, instead of being scared, I felt my heart pump with courage rather than anxiety. The need to go towards the creature was much more necessary, though it's rampage wasn't headed this way.

Suddenly I felt hit with a familiar feeling of curiosity that tickled me with the feelings of butterflies and lightning that made me shiver. A faint memory of Oliver's face when I first laid eyes on me. Shaking out of that soft smirk; my heart didn't flutter, but I knew I had to see.

I'd never felt this way before. This presence, in the not too far distance.

"Ay!" I call to the running spirit. The being stopped; then my body felt as light as a feather, as I'd began to run. Stumbling, feeling the impact of my feet on my knees, making my way into the shadows under the moon, I felt free and fast!

Just as I'd entered into the trees; I wasn't alone. It was the old familiar sound of growling, eight legs with blazing red eyes. Not that I'm a spiritual person, but I've always believed they were my spirit animals. I never got their full shape though I knew they were large, hiding in the shadows. They followed me anywhere and everywhere, protecting me from the terrors of being a young homeless girl.

As I ran, alongside with comrades, it was bitter sweet. They scared away demons, they scared away my abusive ex-boyfriend, an even more abusive foster family, and probably many more unseen threats. I tried to stay away, but I felt lighter with them; I felt faster, zipping through the wind. I felt as if I weren't even touching the ground.

Visions of where she was popped through, familiar trees, familiar scents; this was all so overwhelming.

"Autumn!" Oliver called out. "Autumn!"

"God damn human Slow down," Annika screams after me.

The shadow dogs, change their angles, running directly at me; not stopping their incredibly fast pace, colliding into me. Both crash into me, taking the air from my lungs, though as they simultaneously make their way into my core, I cannot help but scream from the pain of their somewhat solid heads pass through me.

What comes out of my mind even stops my heart for a brief moment. The shriek horrifying shrillness of the demonic strings of my throat; I stopped, as the energy of the spirits danced through my veins. They were cold swimming through my hot veins giving every inch of my skin bumps as I suddenly stop and fall into the ground, knees first.

My heart pumps as if it is about to explode, settling cold in my hot skin, slowly heating to something more than unbearable. Animals begin to cry, howl, whine all over me; echoing feeling the pain in their sensitive ears I can't find a way to stop.

"AH, FUCK ME!" a faint noise screams, though my voice seems to me moving the earth I'm under just slightly. She sounded pained though, I felt as if my rib cage had been shattered on both sides.

The hounds, just as easily escaped through my skin; crushing my ribs from the insides, from my lungs and my stomach; my veins like my heart were going to explode as I felt an extreme temperature change. Both dogs howled alongside me, connecting me; the pain they were helping to absorb was my own.

When I found the will, to take back my body, I quickly shut my mouth as the dogs growled, not in the way of the vampires, but of that force.

What I had just experiences was something I couldn't even comprehend. Things that weren't human, that didn't exist were here, and I felt like one of them. I wasn't real. I wasn't supposed to be here. My life was now surreal.

Under the moon, through the trees she stopped at an alarming speed.

Her hair, long and wet, along with her long white dress, and like her body was covered in a thin layer of earth; she was paler than the vampire and made peculiar neck movements—almost like a bird. "What are you?" Her voice was soft, almost Disney Princess like.

"Do not touch her," Oliver almost barked, "She is mine."

Her face was round, with the most beautiful wide though slanted eyes; though she was a monster, she was wonderful. Kneeling to the, slowly getting on her knees, she touches my face, baring so such fangs, but a friendly face. "Your voice…so familiar—" she stops to smile.

The gods come closer to her, snarling more ferociously than I'd ever seen.

Her eyes had no whites under the moon though I knew she looked normal during the day. There was something about her that seemed tired, bored. "I've come here to die," her voice becomes hard, "I thought maybe I'd stir up some trouble here in the states because the vamps where I live won't go near me."

"Why have you come to die?" I ask. "Why?"

"I'm old," at peace with her words, she rests herself on the earth. "I am older than you," her head turns to Oliver, as she raises an eyebrow. "I am finished with these games, and have opened myself up into enlighten. I have committed my life to spirituality beyond myself.

"My body is a cage. I do not think the way I used to and I am ready to repent my sin of everything horrible I have done. Regardless if heaven or hell exist, I need to move on."

"Then why have you been killing vampires?" Negah asks, his voice strong with interest.

"It isn't me who's killing them. I am one of the Aswang. They've come to get me back—I thought I'd left without a trace, but I am begging you to take me before they find me."

"They're in the area, you know that?" Annika retorts with her smart ass attitude. "Kill her already."

"Please," the Aswang begs.

Part of me felt the sincerity in her to know she was being legitimate. Her life was in severe trouble.

"They'll be coming for me, to brainwashing me into finding their way again and—I know they're close but without me they won't be as strong."

"Are you some kind of a ring leader?" Joseph asks.

"Maybe you could put it that way. Just kill me—"

Her anguish was dreadful, as I stood, turning behind her; taking her neck into my hands, "I hope your journey is a peaceful one." This was automatic, as my arms twisted with such a force; that her neck broke almost instantly.

Killing her as I felt her life's energy flow through me, I was terrified. Seeing everything she'd seen from the time she was an infant to all of the satanic shit and self-harm she'd done through her life to find the path of right though it was a rough one. I felt the fear, the hurt, the anguish, the sorrow….she was hidden behind lust, and a haze of glorification because her entire life she was taught she was the highest being.

Revenge, abuse, yelling—the small tribe of Aswang, they'd followed her, she'd felt them near, just before begging me to go. Somehow, as the hallow feeling of my body, now susceptible to some weird shit, now felt empty though I'd collected something from her that would never leave. I couldn't quite pin point what it was, but, it was surprisingly nice.

Again, the necessary urge to scream briefly escaped from my lips, and the commotion begun just for a brief second before everything fell silent.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors note:** **I'm making my own rules, making a creature that already exists into something a little more powerful and kick ass.**

** Tell me what you think of the story pretty please & review, review, review!**

** Xoxo, Hallowbreath.**

My body was incredibly weak, boiling hot from the mysterious dog ghost collision. My hell hounds were now, making mischief somewhere else far away from me. As we wall walked, now at a human pace, as I was more than exhausted, noticed, when we neared the light that the faces of the vampires were leaking blood from their tear ducts, their noses and ears.

"Excuse my rude wife," Negah apologizes, "she has a tendency for extreme profanity."

"I'm sorry I—did that…to you," I shrug, noticing Negah looking kind of terrible; they all looked bad. Less lively for the living dead…if that made any sense.

"What the fuck was that?" Annika demanded.

"What made you scream, 'AH FUCK ME?'" I ask, shrugging, "My guess is just as good as yours. I have no idea."

"Strange for a human," Joseph suspiciously, calls me out. "What exactly are you?"

"Didn't I just say I didn't know?" it's ridiculous how they demand answers when they barley know what's even keeping them alive.

"You have been acting strange lately," Oliver agrees, though he's more concerned as his voice stays nonchalant. "With the violent fevers, extreme mood swings…."

"Mood swings?" I snap. "You're all to blame for those—except you of course, Negah. For Christ's sakes I'm a human. I don't fucking know what exactly just happened, and I sure as hell can't explain the way it felt, or how I feel now. The last thing I need to be is afraid of myself, so I'd appreciate it if we could continue this interrogation at another time."

I ran back into the house, straight into my room—just as quickly as could breath and turn on the light, my stomach sparked with a jolt of electricity.

The lights turned on.

Three strangers wait on my bed with curious ill-behaved intent.

Two women, just as beautiful and similar to the woman in the forest, a gang of Aswang,

"Can I help you?" I ask, trying to keep the rate of my heart down though I didn't exactly know how. I tried breathing slower so my rushed heart wouldn't sound so pathetic.

"You killed my wife," the man said, not bothering to stand—staring at me with pitch black eyes; no whites showing. He breathed as If it were unbelievable, "She wanted to die, but that isn't the point. The point is, I need you to find me another wife—or maybe you can give yourself to me…?

"You are quite beautiful. If you can find me someone more beautiful than yourself, I will and can take that as an exchange."

My irritation levels spiked.

"As the fairy goddess of death, it shouldn't be hard for you to lure in someone equivalent."

"Fairy goddess of death?" I huff, "I can assure you I'm not something as ridiculous."

"Only a Banshee can do what you did out in the forest. It's obvious you just hadn't ever triggered your abilities."

"Shut up for just a second and listen to me," I demand, looking at the stranger. "You will find yourself a wife and leave me the fuck alone!"

"It doesn't work that way," he smirks. "My wives and I won't be satisfied until she is replaced."

"Why do you need three wives?" I demand. "Isn't two good enough?"

"I will personally see to it your vampire friends die—especially the one who's claimed you. He's old which means he's probably aged deliciously. I could take your baby—"

"Baby? I don't have a baby."

"I think I know what a growing baby smells like—hormones—"

"Get the fuck out of my house," Oliver demands coldly.

"Wait, what!" I scream. "

The man and two women stand, and I suddenly see why they need three women. My mind is overwhelmed as when they stand, I can see, just suddenly, like a movie in fast forward that the Aswang need three to compete their magical protection on this man. He is vulnerable—I can feel it.

"Watch yourself vamp," the man's warm yet ridiculously comfortable voice lulls from his mouth.

Tonight, have been more than fucked up, but as I feel their magic, distinguishing it from the magic living within Olive—I decipher my own. My extensions and limitations, and in the core; the clucking of three black chicks, chirping, like a psychic their images flash into my mind

Small evil looking baby chicken, distorted, old, thirsty for blood; I focus on them, disturbed by the living demons living inside them.

My flash, my concentration broke, just then, looking into the small black eyes of something less than or equal to a small grape. It has fingers, a beating heart…

Just then, the image fades and I'm even more angry as, I scream as some sort of reflex; shaking the walls of the room focusing on their cores, were the demonic chicken babies live. They scream; all three boiling from the inside—the Aswang, longer teeth shoot from their mouths as they scream, though I cannot see their faces as my eyes are shut as I focus on the chickens, crawling up through the cores; dyeing in the heat of their bodies which rapidly begin to heat up.

Screaming never seems like the appropriate way to get your way, but it stopped just suddenly as I could not control it. Their skin, pile on the floor had looked scorched, red hot as if physically burned. Out of the man's mouth, one wet, black, demon chick, take it's first gasp of air, then die, small neck hung from the side of his mouth, as the corpse lay on his tongue. One of the women had a large lump in her throat where I assumed another had tried escaping. The other had not gone far either as she too had an irregular lump at the base of her neck where her collar bones met. For a second, I swore I could have twitched.

Three corpses in my room—my hands slid down to my hip bones.

The warm vision of light, through strange fluids and the image and the sound of the beating heart—"Holy shit."


	7. Chapter 7

"It's only obvious the harlot's been opening her legs when you're asleep."

"Annika, how are you!"

"Negah, honey, how the fuck else is this supposed to happen—we're dead, remember?"

"Oliver, she's too genuine—you took her virginity; you have her inside, you do not need our council."

"Oh please," Annika spits out, "It's like you're so naïve to protect her."

"Negah's right," Joseph states, "Have you felt her leave the house physically? I for sure don't smell anything on her when she gets home." He pauses, "Her fear is legitimate. I know for a fact she loves Oliver enough to never double cross him like that."

"How can she be pregnant then?" Oliver demands, "I'm just now picking up on the hormones—"

"Well, she's now all human—we all found out at the same time. It's quite plausible. Her kind can do anything really."

"She's a Banshee," Annika states, "The daughter of death."

"But she's a fairy," Joseph interrupts, his voice harsh, "A banshee is a fairy. For Christ's sakes Annika how old are you? You're not the baby of this family anymore."

"She isn't a part of this family—"

"Enough," Oliver says, his word making the house ill. "She is a part of me; which means she is a part of us. Stop being so bitter, Annika."

"You're fucking joking right?" she laughs, "This is unbelievable. Oliver, you've been dead almost two thousand years! I am more than sure you're sperm is lifeless. SHE IS CHEATING ON YOU!"

"Don't you think I would have been able to feel that? Don't you thing I would have smelled that man on her skin regardless if she showered or not! Annika, shut the fuck up."

"This may seem impossible, sir, but, what do you propose?" Joseph inquires.

"I don't know…." Oliver sighs, "it isn't my decision in what she does with her body. Leave now."

They probably had business elsewhere anyway as I had just really woke up with all of that commotion. With all of this new stuff going on with my body, I could hear a lot better now so any really disturbance, even if through sound proof walls, I could hear.

My body was so tired now.

I dreamt of nothing but having my skin be translucent looking down at a being, who could now sense I was paying attention to it; so in movements, it communicated with me.

Unsure, and upset, I let out a yawn, hoping Annika's words wouldn't pull me down too much.

"Are you alright?" Oliver asks, take my face immediately in his hands, pressing his lips against my forehead. His was still very rough with affection.

"Yeah," I smirk, trying not to laugh at his roughness, "Just feeling a little weak."

"Is it hurting you?" he asks, his cold hand, feeling like ice on my hot skin. It felt nice, as the little one jolted at his touch.

"I have a feeling it's excited," I smirk, "When you touch it there's a little shock in my tummy from it."

He lets out a smile, "You have given me the ultimate gift." Those eyes glimmer into mine though the centuries of lacking emotion still show through.

"Gift?" in the book this wasn't a gift.

"A son, a daughter…children—something I can call my own flesh and blood."

Another shock made me giggle, as his thumb encircled the spot between my hips, "It's happy, that's for sure. I think it loves you, a lot," as the tiny shocks were non-stop, I giggle, putting my hand near his, as the energy of the little sexless bundle feels like a finally at the fourth of July, rumbling within me.

"I would have never though my life would be so complete. You, this—" he stops himself, "nothing could be more perfect."

"So the doubts in your head—they're gone?"

"I had no doubt."

"Then—" I stopped myself, feeling curious, but not having the energy to argue. "I need something from you."

"Anything," he nods.

"Get naked, I'm horny and I don't think I can handle waiting." I'd never been horny before; not to where I felt my body needed it. Just seeing him brought my into this state, and surprisingly he did not hesitate.

Maybe that so called period I had not too long ago wasn't really a period; every thought possible ran through my mind. I couldn't handle any though once he'd entered me; taking me both physically and mentally.

It seemed, my growth had been excelling, as I don't want to bore you with what happened day to day in the home.

I'd find myself in peculiar situations, waking up in the middle of the night in strange places; sleepwalking, then later hearing the horrible sounds of the Banshee.

When I look in the mirror, I see the similarities.

Though I am very pregnant in such a short amount of time, bonding with a vastly growing weed of a baby; I find myself pale, my life being sucked out of me. My bones are oddly visible though, I eat, and yet, food has no taste. My veins brighter, my breasts bigger; at least I look well rested.

Under the moon, though he, my son, develops, I feel my body is beckoned to the streets; to wander, and so, I did though it was obvious that I could not be trapped.

The walking, wherever my feet had so chosen to go as I walked; I felt the dark presence in which watched me like my dogs; who've I still haven't named. They pant, usually in content, side my side as I run my hands alongside their long soft fur; though they are shadows and most of the time invisible to others as I walk.

In the time I've spent with them, I've learned even if humans see them; they run—some, brave enough to approach me, are attacked—one man touched my right hand dog with dangerous intentions and I watched the color of his skin escape from every hole in his body; his eyes scarred with a burning char, as he'd fallen to the ground in a very physical seizure like way.

To them, I was not to be touched.

Not even three months pass, as I am feeling symptoms for the third trimester. I small woman has come to visit me for good money. She's seen very minimal cases like this; where someone with blood like mine, or genetics—I wasn't listening, can awaken the monstrous sperm of a vampire. Stephanie got one thing right….

Sitting, watching the sun go down; I watch, yearning to go outside, to escape.

She's coming tonight, again—I don't like too much, but she does know what she's doing.

I close my eyes, making contact with a child that shocks me with excitement. He's irrationally excited, feeling the sun set, feeling the anticipation of something or someone.

My head cocks, as I look out, into the perfect garden. My eyes suddenly focus, as from a small patch of green grass, slowly turns a shade of yellow, dyeing before my eyes. Intrigued, I stand, making my way out, down from the back porch—the soft sound of earth moves as I'm astounded by the forced that small area is moving. Up, up, up, emerges a hand; a pale hand, not bone, but as pale as I am.

That hand grabs for the grass that is green and full of life, pulling itself from out of the now dead earth, much easier as the fibers of the dirt have loosened.

With time, as I can't currently bend over, the cloaked figure makes his way from the ground. Pale, tattered cloak, dusted with earth accompanied by the sound of one low beating, masked in darkness; something was oddly familiar about him. Presumably a heart and yet the beat had no definite pattern.

I was afraid.

The being uncloaked itself.

I couldn't comprehend—he'd had no eyes, his mouth seemingly welded together with X shaped scars. His fragile pale skin, cracked, some parts of his face were completely rotted, exposing rotted muscle even some shards of skull. He wasn't something that made me easy as he reached out with those statuesque hands touching my face.

He was so cold to the touch that he was burning my cheek, paralyzing me.

Lips that could not separate, holes that could not see, and a hacked nose, completely making me second guess he were human in any point of time.

His energy flowed to mine, oddly, more surprisingly warm as the baby moved in some sort of fit. It was not scared, nor was it happy…something completely indescribable.

Flashes stun me, passing through in my head, light flashes on a very fast camera—my life, flashing though my eyes in a third person point of view. Emerging, a man, hiding in the darkness, watching over; he was telling me something.

Waves of pride flow through me, waves of love though the flashes, stun me, was I am literally going through every minuscule moment of my life; though I felt alone, I had known death had always been there for me. Death, was, my friend but more importantly—this thing—Death, was my father.


	8. Chapter 8

Just as he'd thrown me into an emotional wave of the light; I feel all of my energy being sucked from my body. I was being drained, as the lightest touch of his finger slipped from my. I am weak in the knees; unable to keep myself up.

"What the fuck!" Annika screams.

His, hands catch me as I fall, and in the light; this man, my father is pleasant as his exterior becomes angelic. Warm blue eyes, lips that could part, full lips, distinct, strong jaw bone cheekbones that were high and sharp with a slightly cleft chin. He was beautiful as he exposed those shiny bright teeth, laying me on the lively patch of grass.

My chest grew tight, my heart began to panic as I couldn't move, my muscles were paralyzing tight.

Then, my stomach began to tighten, as the beating of my own heart matched the uneven beat of my father's.

The light is blinding, as my chest lifts toward the sky, butterflies inside of my, rising me.

It was beautiful.

His eyes looked into mine; reassuring me everything was going to be okay though he hadn't said a word.

Time had been so insignificant; he'd briefly taken me with him on a short journey. A tunnel of love, no judgment; I looked back, not seeing my body lifeless because I think I haven't left.

There, holding my son, I haven't yet named. Light as a feather, he looks with green eyes into mine, not smiling, but gazing silently at me.

In the middle of this bright nowhere, a woman with curly brown hair, and matching green eyes, smile at me. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I swear, she only had a shape for a second, as she'd come as fast as she'd left. Dissolving into a light, with one look, he'd given me reason to believe that beautiful woman was my mother.

The strong sound of crying filled my ears, both from a child and a nearly two thousand year old Viking.

Now, was the time I could look over my lifeless body, on yet another lifeless patch of grass. I was not upset I was dead but confused.

The baby was taking my very life-force out of my body, my stomach was split open, in which I was forced into my mind, that as he'd paralyzed me, he'd really been cutting me open. My father's razor sharp thumb, sinking into my skin digging down, vertical as the blood spilled from my stomach.

As to how the baby had been pulled out; I have no recollection.

I stood in front of the vampires, all mourning, even Annika, as they could not see me, but my corpse on the floor, sprawled out in a very unnatural way.

Oliver on his knees, my son in the arms of Joseph, as Erik cried, lifting me—my corpse onto his lap as he continued to but himself, forcing his blood into a mouth that would not take anything.

I didn't want to be invisible.

But, again, father had taken me into the ground, sinking, their visions, gone as I'd sunk slowly into the dirt. Deep down, maybe six feet under, into fertile soil; there, he told me to wait until the next moon.

Without speaking, he reassured me I would be physical, and not as disturbing.

I slept, with the kiss of death, waiting to rise along with the next moon.


	9. Chapter 9

I was now wondering if I would know when the moon would come up; but, as sure as I doubted myself, I felt the light cool rays of moon cooling the ground as I, rolled in a small ball, tried to figure out how to get out. Normally, I would have freaked out, though, I tried something that came as naturally as my new screaming power. Killing the dirt above me, clawing out of dirt easier to dig from, pulling myself eventually from the ground, back into fresh air; I needed fresh air.

I heard the sound of humming, an uneasiness, his vibration; the magic of his life force, I felt everything alive or living around me. Crawling up, pulling myself up toward the surface, I feel his feet over me.

Just then, I feel an arm punch into the ground as I take it. Pulling up in reaction, Oliver helps lift me up, as I look at him, looking at me in awe.

His eyes were wide, as he held his sun in his arms.

"Autumn."

I smile, apologetically.

"How—" he's unkempt and stressed, I can see it in those eyes.

I shrug as I honestly couldn't even try to explain what's happened.

The cooling wind which was once sticky when he'd begged me to stay touched my naked skin. I took the baby from his hands; a baby, a boy well, pale, sleeping as his low heart beat pumped with vigor. I kissed such a soft cold forehead.

It was nice being physical again.

I hadn't much time to do anything as Olive took me in his strong muscled hands, up the familiar stair case and into his room. Everything had been set up. My corpse, on a table—the smell was beginning to take place.

I chuckle, setting the baby down for only an instance as I catch a bloody tear from Oliver's eye with my free hand.

Without saying a word, he'd said everything he'd needed to say when his lips smashed against mine.

Though I was more dead than Oliver, I had felt more alive than when I was actually living. I was deadly alive and I couldn't await for an eternal future with the two most important people in my life.


End file.
